


Shadows of My Bones

by Anthem_of_Liones



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Body Dysphoria, CURSED TEXT, Ender Eye Ryan, Gen, He'll Get Better Eventually, Mind Invasion, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Playing fast and loose with minecraft lore, Ryan being a sad boy, Telepathic Conversations, Telepathy, The End, The Ender Dragon - Freeform, Unconsciousness, ender dragon is not a nice being, ender!ryan, endermen, enslaved endermen, friendly endermen, hurt/some comfort, just not in this, minecraft au, psychic attacks, weird descriptions of mind static
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24989812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anthem_of_Liones/pseuds/Anthem_of_Liones
Summary: He sits up, hand reaching up andit’snothisand his breathing quickens as he watches the black hand move and shake with his growing panic. He clutches at it with his hand,hishand, and a flash of pain shoots through his left eye and suddenly he isRyan. His name is Ryan and he is in the End.OR, in which Ryan escapes the End.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	Shadows of My Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome all to this... interesting thing that was spawned in my brain this past Sunday as I was listening to my playlist on my way home from work. This AU was birthed into existence after I viewed [this](https://zubneo.tumblr.com/post/613906133709701120/end-themed-shop-0) piece of lovely art on Tumblr, considered Ryan as an Ender Merchant, and combined it with the idea of Geoff's Farming and Merchantile, to make what I often call the merchant boys au to my friends in dm when I go off about it, but what I formally call the Ender Merchant AU. 
> 
> This particular drabble occurs before other events in the "proper" au, so think of them as "pre-cannon", but the image of Ryan in the early scenes wouldn't leave me alone, so you're all getting this before you're getting any of the main material. 
> 
> The title comes from "What Have I Become" by All Good Things, a song that itself is very much a mood for Ryan in this AU (especially with what happens later) and I highly recommend giving it a listen.
> 
> There is cursed text in this, so I've included the translations at the bottom if you're curious and couldn't make out what was actually being said.

He’s drifting; he knows nothing and awareness only comes in bursts, in bits and pieces. He’s laying down on the ground and then he’s being carried, feet dragging on the ground, (but that’s not any ground he’s ever seen) and then there’s pain, burning starting from his left eye and working down his face to his neck and arm and then it’s spreading, scorching through his veins as it envelopes every inch of him. He drifts again, whispers and static and a dull roaring filling the crevices left in his mind from the fire that took everything. 

~~~~~

He blinks and there’s a void above him, the midnight interspersed with strange purple structures (trees?) that reach up into it like weird, crooked, broken fingers. A black something enters his sight, and at first, it's like a blank face with purple eyes _glowing-piercinghishead_ and then a picture overlays that and he can see the mouth, turned down in a frown, and a hint of a nose before he stares into those eyes and loses himself to the _roaringstaticringing_ that drowns out everything.

~~~~~

He’s sitting up this time, and there’s no void. A strange purple stone (are those bricks?) surrounds him and cools his still-burning body. Figures move around him, their black forms shifting and blurring together until he can’t tell them apart. Something shifts in the back of his head and the left side of his face lights up with fire. The figures are suddenly closer, one is touching him and (is someone screaming?) those purple eyes stare and he’s breaking apart again, losing himself to the current of the river of static that erupts into existence with the eye contact-

“W̷̲͇͊̎h̶̹̜̍̏ā̴̖t̴̨͊͊ ̴͍̚͝h̵̻̞̓a̶̭v̵̟͔̊e̸͔ ̸̞̍͜ṭ̵̏̉h̵̥̤̑͆e̶̡̙̐y̵͇̕ ̴̛͎d̴̯͎͒ȏ̵̤̃n̴̞̽͂e̵̻͋?̷͖̅̈”

~~~~~

He’s drifting again, no coherent thought, just pure existence. Then, he’s laying down again, staring up at that purple brickwork and wondering where he is. He’s surprised that there is no pain accompanying the sudden awareness, but does not dwell on it. He sits up, hand reaching up and _it’snothis_ and his breathing quickens as he watches the black hand move and shake with his growing panic. He clutches at it with his hand, _his_ hand, and a flash of pain shoots through his left eye and suddenly he is _Ryan_. His name is Ryan and he is in the End. He was brought here by the thing in his head and something grabs those thoughts, stopping them and shredding and breaking and there’s roaring in his head and he is simply him again.

~~~~~

There is an enderman in front of him. They are standing, facing away, and staring down several other endermen. They are facing him and their eyes are sickly, an unnatural pinkish color that bleeds into the air around them. He avoids looking, instead, watching his defender as the being stands at the ready, their arms out wide and claws spread. There’s a hissing, crackling noise that’s filling the area and it takes a moment for him to place the friendly enderman as the source. They glances over their shoulder at him, their eyes meeting briefly and they’re purple and green and static fills his head.

“̷̱̍D̴̟͊o̷͕̚ ̵̢͂n̷̼͝ȍ̶̠t̴̮͌ ̷̪̋f̵̟̈ę̵͒ȧ̴͕r̸͇,̵͖̈́ ̵̠͌t̴̆͜h̸̬͑e̵͈͐ ̴̬̍Ḑ̵̆Ř̵̠Ä̴̖G̵̟̓Ỏ̶͎N̶̼̾ ̴̬̏ẅ̵̝i̷̽͜l̷͈̓l̶̬̃ ̷̺̋ṇ̵́o̴͈͠t̷̖̃ ̸̯͆h̶̝̿â̵̡v̶̜̌ë̶͔́ ̶͍͝y̴̺̒o̴̰̚ư̶͓ ̵̰̏a̴̯͑g̵̣̍a̸̱͆i̵͇̓ń̶̩.̴͍͝”̵̸̦̮̎̎

He is paralyzed, unable to move even as his head begins to pound and his ears ring. The enderman breaks the contact and turns back to the attackers, hissing louder now and posturing more. The other endermen begin hissing, their own arms twitching into position. As he observes them, one catches his eyes and-

“̴̼͕̳̣̯͌Y̸̺̰̥͐͆ŏ̸̟̤̩̏͛ũ̶̙̰̋ ̴̯̕͝a̶̛͎͎͊͠r̵̘̗͈͓͖͊ệ̸͍̾̄̚ ̶̧̧̰̬͉̈́̾̏n̷͓̣͉̤̈́͑͜ŏ̵̼̯͔̱̻t̷͚̩̏̈ͅh̵̳̀͋̌i̵̹̫͎̔̈́̀̚n̴̻̺͇͓̈́̏̏́g̷͈̗͌̈́͗̈́ͅ,̴̛̞͋̔ ̸̜̝͖͚͕̉̔c̴̢̥̜̘̙̏̀͑̀ơ̴̢̮͐̄̈́ṋ̴̙̖̌̋̿̂s̵̛͙̪͚͙͛̄͝ͅt̷̰̔̒͘͠r̸̨̦̪̅̎̓̄u̶̢͕̮̺̒̂c̷͓͒͒̃͐t̸̖̤͚͗̍̅̿.̸̳͍͍͠͝ ̶̨̥̖̹̭͋͆̊Y̵̺̰̒̅͐͝o̷̢͓̫̞̬͌͊̌ṵ̸̜͎͚͑̕͝ ̶̭̰͚͋͝ç̵̠̲̮̠̄a̶̱̔̕̕n̸͉̥̅͌n̶̡̼̭̹̥͑o̶̠̥̦͓̮͐̕ţ̶̯̹̈́͊̐͠ ̷̨̰͖̗͖̄̓ȩ̵̪̬͙̺͌̌̆s̶̼̠̻̱̣͗͊̈́͗̌c̵̭͛̃̇̚ā̷̺͐p̷̤̗͉̦͉͑̅̐̋̎ẽ̵͇̳.̴̙̲͔̍͝”̷͖̜̍ ̷̙̞͊

His attackers lunge and his defender howls and his Eye is alight, pain sparking up as if it was waiting for the right time to strike. More endermen (purple eyes, green eyes) appear and he is falling. He is static and pain and nothing more. 

~~~~~

He is floating but he is _Ryan_ and he needs to remember that. He is a person and he does not belong here. Something roars and his mind is sundered, but he is still Ryan; it is imprinted into his very being. The thing in his head does its best to change that and he is drifting again.

-_-_-_-

Ryan is standing atop a tall tower made of strange purple stone staring off into the midnight purple void that acts as a sky. His eye watches the tall figures of the endermen as they go about their lives in an odd contrast; the strange shadows cast by whatever non-visible light source exists here are perfectly geometric and the pale stone shines vividly against the dark background in a way that hurts. His Eye has no such problems. The purple-tinted vision it gives him has no trouble seeing the carefully-carved designs in the purple brick and the actual facial features of the endermen around him. 

He looks down (he’s moving, actually moving on his own) and looks at his hands. The left one is blackened, the skin inky and rough in a way that reminds him of charcoal with only four fingers that narrow into sharp points. The right one as it always was; scarred from both blade and heat, with thick calluses from his work, though it does have a few spots of that cursed black, the corruption taking over his pinky finger entirely as well as part of his ring finger. He traces the splotches of black on his right hand up his arm until they disappear under the worn fabric of his shirt. He closes both hands, the changed finger on his right preventing a full close on that side and grits his teeth. 

Movement to his left has him turning his head, seeing the visage of an enderman too late to prevent the eye contact (he’s taller now, taller than he should be, why? _Whywhywhywhy_ ) and the familiar _cracklehiss_ signals the forming of the connection. It’s too much, so much, and his mind, splinters back into pieces as the 

Ẅ̸̨̢̠͔́̊h̶̘͇̩̻̆̍ō̵͘͜ ̶̢͐̚͘ǎ̷̭̫͍͜ṟ̸̑e̵̗̍͛̀ ̶̧͉͙̱̈́͛̅̏y̶̡͙̮̐̌ö̷̺́͒͗ǘ̶͉̣͎͕̍̊͝,̵͎̭̰͖͈͘ ̵͉͇̼̅̅͛͠͠c̸̻̩̣̪̐͘o̸̼͊͒n̶̢̪͎͂͑̇̿͛s̸̝̣̤̙̈́̀̓t̴͕̑̋̌͋r̵̨̞̺͙̐̊u̴͚͕͖̍̀̑̕͝c̴̟͔͋̈́͌t̸̨̘̭̳̬̏͒?̵̢̗̝̹͗̽͆̚͘͜ ̴͚̰̻͓̊́̎̚ͅẄ̴̤̒h̵̗͋̈́̓ý̸͈̱̙̑̕͝ ̵̨́̆a̷͇̹̺͠r̶̨͉̜̝̜̋ě̶̩̖̞͊̉ͅͅ ̷͔̺́͌̿̊y̷̟͖̘̰͍̽͝o̵͓̿͊ù̴̲͙̜̪͋̈́̏ ̶̻͚̩͌̎̔̃̚h̸͉̭͇̎̍̽e̵͎̣̱͈̔̀͂ȑ̵͙̘̫̳̦̐̓̍e̸̯̘͙̳̦͒͝?̴͎̝̀̐̈ ̶̹̯͓̠̮̓͐̆̓

tears through the barely-healed holes, leaving edges jagged and _bleeding_ . Ryan’s hands jump up to cover his ears in an attempt to stop the _staticnoisetearingthoughts-that-arent’s-his_ from entering his mind. He can’t look away. His vision wavers, black and white dance across it, creating strange ripples that almost appear like glyphs that move and twist across the sight of the End. He closes his eye, but can’t close his Eye. 

"̸͔̓T̵̠̽̔̂͆h̷̡̯͒̓͠ẽ̵͎͍̣̱ ̶̺̑D̸͖̦͆R̶̯̤̊A̷̢̱̾Ġ̵̨̗̳̋̒O̴̡̝̘̕N̶̯͔̠̞͋̍̽͝ ̷̡͓̖̋h̵̹͖̙̖͐̿̀͝o̷̭ḻ̵͛̿̕d̶̯̯̅͜͝s̵̻̤̳̆ ̸̨͇͑̊͂y̴͉̭͇̑o̵̧̦͎͗̑u̷͙̬͂͛̽ ̸̗̳̋̍̄͊t̸̯̳̖͛̂̕ī̵̢̛̤̲̇g̶̰̺̈́̊ḧ̸̢͚̟̪̀͛̈́t̶̘̖̄̕,̷̥̙̅ ̸͍̞̠͔̔̈́̏͋c̶̨͔̗̗̈́̆̂o̷̢̞̥̼̾͒͘n̶͉̂͐̆͠ś̸̰̗̭͔͘ẗ̵̘́̀r̷̰̣͆u̷̟͂c̵̡̢̰̲͋́t̵̘̉̉̚.̶͚̀̃̓ ̶̹̘͖̭̅̋I̴͓͋͝ͅt̶͖̳͝ ̸̟̦͆į̶̮̩̃̒͝ͅs̵̥̅̔ ̸͈͉̘̋̆r̸̤͔̅̈͆͜a̴̛̺̽r̷̬̱͠ẽ̴̡͕̦̻͝ ̴͕̹̽́͘͘ẗ̷̫̺̦̰́͛͆̕h̴̯͂͌̕a̴̲̝͗ṫ̵̙̣́̉ ̴̞͖̯̾̃͜y̷̙͋̍͒o̶̲̠͑͑̅ů̵̥ ̸̞̆̂̑͝s̷͖̝͈͆̍ū̵͓͓͍͇̊͘r̶͚͕̜̅̍f̵̖̣̋͆͒̔à̴̡̢̙̤c̶̝̘̬̅́͝e̷͚͚̊͝ ̸̦̪̤̮̄͂s̴͓̐̈́̾̕o̴̖͓͍̔̇̆͂ͅ ̷̡̞͚̤̈́̒̈́f̶͕̙̄ͅṳ̸͍̬̻̓l̷̢̛͛ḻ̴̡͓̯̓̆ỷ̵̢͖̞̅̒.̵̞̌"̶̳̜͕̭͑͂̄͠

That voice permeates his mind once more, testing and ripping. The Eye throbs in his socket, heating up as it sends more bursts of that _staticflickering_ through his head. His ears begin to ring as a dull roar, like that of rushing water, builds at the back of his head. He digs his fingers into his scalp, relishing the physical pain of his nails ( _claws, they’re claws now)_ digging in. 

“̸̬͈̊S̶̟͝t̴̳͝ả̵̤̦͘y̵̲͇̐̑ ̴̮̲s̸̙̙̈̋t̶̯͗r̶̤͛o̶̝̽͠ņ̷̦̆g̸̼̈́,̴̟͓̿ ̵̤̞̒̉č̶̗o̴͓͕n̴̘̊s̷͕̹̈́t̶̙̊̆r̸̦̓̆ͅǔ̵̹̞̚č̷͇̇t̷̫̋.̸̟̖̋̄ ̶̤̿̈́T̵̩̤̂h̷͚͌̇e̵̮͒ ̴͇̅D̷̞̘̂R̶̥̚A̸̧̔̍G̵͓̓O̵̡̽Ň̸̹̪̚’̵̧̽̌s̴̳͍͋ ̸̬̥̈́p̶͖͂̂r̴̳͎̉ȅ̶̜̦͋s̴̼͠e̸̦̳͂n̵̄͜c̴̠̒e̴̥̤͋ ̸̘͇̚i̶͔̬s̷̼ ̵̪̫͌ö̵̼̳́̚v̵̺̾͊ͅé̵̈ͅr̷̰̎̍w̴̬̿ḧ̸̨́͌e̷̦̮͂l̸̼̭͂m̶͔̞̕i̵̦̮̽n̵͚̺͛̂g̶̨̩͊̈́ ̵̤̈́͝ḧ̷͚́͘e̵͎͆r̸̮̗̓̃e̵̢̔,̴̨̹͌̈́ ̵̛̮͉b̵̝̘̚ư̶̯t̶̬̺̍̕ ̵̟̹͘w̸͍̰̋̐é̸̳͔͘ ̷̖̗̾̔á̴̪̩r̵͕̒ë̵̘̟́̓ ̵͖̮̍ẃ̵̨̭͆i̴̬̹͝t̸̗̦̑h̷͖̪͋ ̵̧̈y̵̘̙͐o̸̙͛̑ụ̴̣̅.̸͇̥̎̓ ̵͖̫͐Y̴̼̍o̷̭̭̔̉ǔ̴͖ ̴̪̞̇ä̵̞r̷̊̕ͅḙ̶͈̑ ̴̲͑͂ņ̸̻̑̂o̶͔̝̓t̷͔̋͑ ̷͔͊̐o̷͈͊f̶͔̠̏͘ ̸̨̻̍͒E̸̥̖͠N̵̡͌̋D̵̨͒̾ ̵͍͔͝a̶͈͝n̸̟̈́d̸̨̘͠ ̸͎̚ţ̵͆h̴̭̔̓ǘ̶̜̽ͅs̶͖̫̀ ̸̧̧͗m̵͎̈́u̴̙͎͂͝s̷͉̑ṱ̸̈́ ̸̼́̉͜ĺ̷̙̔e̵̟̍ą̵͊v̸̘̥͛͒ë̸͍́̂͜,̴̙̭̏ ̴̜̿͝f̴̘̹̈̍o̴̝͑͂ṙ̴̪͝ ̸̣̊t̵͎̼̄ḧ̶̻̼́̈e̸̠ ̷͂ͅg̸̱̜̓ȏ̴̲ó̶̜d̴̛̪̙̒ ̶̝̗͗̕o̵̲͝f̴̩̃ ̴̜̈́̂B̴̺̫͛̕Ă̸̮L̸̺͓̊͘A̵͇͑N̷̞̾͛C̴͚͛̏E̵̺̍͒.̵̥̈́ ̵̳͝K̴͎̽͑ȅ̴̡̙ḛ̸͕̎͘p̷̰̕ ̸̗̀͑f̶̛̠̣i̶̞̮̾͛g̴͉̣͆̽h̵͙͕͗͒ṱ̷̦̕i̴̥̔n̴̯͈̄g̶̬͆.̶̻͋̃ ̶̝͔͂W̴̜̾ę̴̽̚ ̵̧̛̦w̸̡̼̅̀i̴͔̊̚l̴̘͘l̸̳̾̀ ̸͍͗g̶̱͉͊é̸͜ṱ̴͇͒ ̸̺̮̓̇y̵̻̘͑̐ȏ̶͈̀ȗ̴̫̬ ̴̰͆͝h̴̘̕o̶̭͎͐̅m̴̯̑e̸̦͛͘”̴̖̂͛.̵̙̖̾͒

The roar intensifies and it drowns out all thoughts, no matter if they are his own or the invader’s. Something wet drips down his lips, his neck. He darts his tongue out on reflex and tastes iron. The Eye is burning now, still wide open even as his human eye is squeezed shut from the pain. He knows nothing except the _flickeringcracklingroaring_ sound filling every crevice of his head. The enderman turns away, breaking the eye-contact and suddenly the overwhelming presence is _gone_. 

He drops to his knees, his hands falling away from his ears to brace himself on the brickwork. The noise in his head is quiet, the ringing in his ears the only remaining symptom of his “conversation”. He opens his eye again and looks down at his hands. Crimson stains the fingers of his human hand, the color only coating the tips where the nails broke skin. Conversely, his blackened fingers shine wetly with his blood, the liquid coating them more fully. A couple red drops appear on the brick in-between his hands, and he reaches up to feel at his nose with his right hand. It comes away more red, the color darker and deeper than the blood already on his skin. He wipes at it with his wrist, probably making more of a mess of himself, but not caring at the moment. 

The aching of his head begins to recede as Ryan kneels there, listening to the sounds of the endermen and the weird box-creatures going about their business over the stubborn ringing. The punctures in his scalp begin to throb more as the other pains fade and he winces, sitting back and reaching up to prod the wounds. He cringes at the spark of pain, but discovers that the ones on his left and one on his right are so very deep. The blood on his hands when he pulls them back down is dark, a deep crimson too close to black to be natural. His throat closes as he swallows, tears beginning to fall from his right eye. He lets out a sob, keeling over and wrapping his arms around his stomach, pressing his forehead into the brick as he cries for the first time in a long time. 

The enderman from before is still there, standing beside him, and he senses them crouch down next to him, feels them place a hand on his back and begin to rub in circles. The being lets out a burst of static-y gurgles that somehow sound soothing and Ryan keens into the ground, gripping his shirt tightly and most-definitely putting holes into the already-ruined fabric. The wounds on his head throb steadily to the slow beat of his heart before the pain begins to recede. The enderman doesn’t leave his side. 

When his tears dry and he’s left feeling drained and tired (when was the last time he felt tired) as he lies there on the stone, the enderman rubs a few more circles and then pulls away, standing up and going back to keeping vigil at his side. Ryan gingerly sits back up, wincing at the newly healed skin (how are those wounds healed already? What’s happening to him?) pulls with the motion. He grimaces at the sticky feeling on his face and pulls up his shirt to wipe away the mess of blood, snot, and tears that covers it. The enderman makes a noise of question and he glances up, seeing the being watching him, but avoiding eye-contact. He maneuvers himself so he’s not kneeling anymore, but still sitting and leans up against the wall of the tower, stretching out his long-asleep legs. 

“I-I’m okay now,” he croaks out, his voice raw with the lingering effects of his breakdown. 

The enderman nods and goes back to looking out at the island. Ryan looks down at himself, examining the rest of his body for the first time since his reawakening. His pants are ragged and full of holes, covered in blood and scorch marks and who knows what else and he wears no shoes. The skin of his right leg is blackened, the toes melded into three and coming to the same claw-like points of his fingers. His left foot is human, the black patches only reaching down to his ankle. He lets out a shaky breath and tries to stand up, staggering as his legs don’t exactly respond like he wants them to. The enderman reaches out, steadying him. His right leg is slightly longer than his left.

“Thank you,” he says, more confident though still hoarse. 

His Eye spots their mouth curl into what might be considered a smile, but they do not look at him. Ryan looks back out of the tower, trying to keep his eyes off of the void and on the moving figures of the endermen, but unable to fight the urge. As he stares out into it, the familiar roaring rises up, slashing at the recently-repaired rips. It gets a few of them as he’s unable to fend off the threat and he falls forward, crying out. He’s vaguely aware of the enderman catching him, but he’s mainly focused on what he can now identify as a foreign entity as it snarls and rages at the rudimentary walls he’s put up. The static fills his head, derailing his thoughts but he screams in rage, in frustration, in pain and the tattered canvas solidifies into something more like stone and the force _roars_ in anger. 

His body is being moved, the enderman at some point having picked him up and he’s not sure where they’re headed but then the walls are breaking and he’s pulled back into the crumbling foundations of his consciousness. His walls reform, stronger, iron, and the claws of the thing in his head gouge deep furrows in them even as he fills them. His body has finished descending the tower and is being lugged across the not-white stone and there are other endermen surrounding him, _guarding him_ , and the roar sinks teeth into the thought and he’s shoving it off, plugging the holes left behind and pushing with all his might to keep it contained within the steely walls he’s built. 

The presence in his head suddenly erupts and he sees a shape descend out of the void above him, the glowing not-right pink eyes and purple fire raging in its maw marking it as the thing-that-killed-them, the D̶̯̙͌Ṛ̶̈́Ä̴̢̕G̴̪̞͝O̶͕̅̚N̷͕̑͜ that the endermen describe. The ruler of the End is here. 

“̸̜̳̓͋͘H̴̼̠͚͐ͅo̸̢͔̠̿͋̽ͅẁ̶̨̙͜ ̴͙̈̂d̶̠͉͙̰̔͂a̶̭̍r̷̦̒̓͋ͅe̸̼͎͒͛̉͠ ̷̧̭̜̒y̶̝͇̌̄͝ò̵̹̟ͅu̴͖̓̄͝?̷̧͉͚͋͗͜ ̸̛̖̭͉̯͐̏C̸͖̰̞̎́́͘o̷̱̔̐̊̽n̵̡̥͚̊̆̉s̴̢̒t̶͔͖̎̇͠r̴̝͎̉̉̌͝u̷̳̻͎͛̌̎̃c̴̜̗͓̼͐̇̉t̸̠̃́̏ͅ-̴̯͇̀̒o̷͔̾͒̈́̕f̵̩̤̯͆̅-̵͖̤͐̇ͅͅm̴̬̎̊ẏ̶̬̬̘͓-̷͎̓̈́̚m̷̢͓͔̽̊͒ä̵̦́͛ķ̸̹̰̏̏͘ȋ̵̻̮͂̒̉ǹ̸̳g̷͙͇͝,̴̜̈́̕ ̵̳͋́y̶̰͓͒o̴̦͂u̴͔̳̙͚̓̆͐͐ ̶̻̦̎̓w̸̡͉͕̜͌̄͝i̴̧̝̔̏̇̒l̷̟͘l̸̝̩̣̓̓ ̶̺̻̩̽̕̚o̷̜͛̓b̴̬͛͝ę̷͖̼̕y̵̻̔̋̕.̸̡̪̀͐̄͝ ̷̲̬͓̆T̶̥͛̽̈́͊h̴̛͖̽̏ê̵͎̅͌͠ͅ ̴̹̠̐͐͘͜w̵͇͕̠̿̄͛̑ǫ̴̡̙̳̆r̶͇̉͆̍l̴̨͓̻̘͂͐̋d̴̲̙̬̪̿͑͝-̴͚̄w̷̢̦̙͕̾ǐ̷̳͙̻t̵̖̫̪̂̑̊̚h̵̡͖͛̾͝͝-̷̖͍̇̈́̇̌l̶̝̄̿̏į̷̡͎̩̌̇f̶̺͐ę̸͖̮͍̽͘-̸͓͙͚͆͛a̷̻͌͝n̸̯̓̀͐d̶̹̼̊͝-̶̛͎̖̥̊͒̕c̴͉͉̉̾̐̚o̸͚͈͖̭̿̎͠l̶̬͑͂̓ȍ̵͈͛̀r̵̩̓̕ ̷̻̲͈̗͂̏ẇ̷̝̩̪ḯ̵̬̫̙̰͊ĺ̵̪̘̓͂l̶̲̒͐̐̔ ̷̨̞͜͝b̴͙͑̏̑e̸͇̗̜͖̽ ̴̗̥̄̐̈m̸͓͉î̸̛̛̤ņ̸̹̻̬̏̿͒ę̵̥͌ ̸̺͛ţ̶̣͑͑̑͝o̸̧̠͔͌̋ ̸̫̫̅̒ͅr̶͍̎̉̈̕u̶̱͋̿̄͝l̸̥̻̳̔̒ě̶̞̼̓͘!̵̤̬̖̓̈̆͒”̸̰̮̝̈́̂

The roaring in his head resolves into a voice that shatters his walls like glass and blows through the patchwork fabric of his consciousness, filling every small crevice in the jagged hole left behind. He’s dimly aware of his screaming as the enderman continues to ferry him forward, the others (purple-and-green eyes, not wrong, not pink) screeching in pain and fury as the D̵̳͌R̷̦̣̓̒A̵͕͙̓G̷̻͓̾O̴̤͐̄Ň̴̹̋’̸̬̺͒̀Ş̶̭̋ fire burns them and the other endermen rip into their non-controlled brethren. The claws grip somehow even deeper and begin to drag him under, back into oblivion, back to being simply _him_ and not Ryan; he can’t have that (never again) and somehow he’s thinking through the static and the flickering and the ringing. His vision flickers, spots overtaking his eye as the strange glyphs float over his Eye and his nose is bleeding again because he can taste iron and something slightly rancid and suddenly he’s being handed off to another enderman, his protector giving him a small smile and meeting his eyes.

“̵͉̀̍G̷̟̿̍o̸͓̺͊,̴͇̉͝ ̶̝̌͌c̶̯̀ö̷͙n̴̞̆s̴̱͐͆t̵̞̃r̶̘̆u̵̬̼̓c̷̖̓̇t̶̨̞͑͋.̶̡̘ ̶̫͆Ṱ̷͖̀̕a̸͔̺͑k̷̙̈́̋ę̴̊̇ ̸̢̋̕t̵̟͝͝ḫ̸̋̇ǐ̷̙͕̚s̴̈̍ͅ ̷͓̺͛̀p̶̢̏͝î̴̦e̸̦̤͒c̴͔͂͑e̴͔̣̅ ̷̤͛o̵̬͖̔͘f̷̠̊ ̶̦̍͠m̷͔̄̕ḙ̶̆ ̸̭̩̐a̵̟͌n̷̜̣̉d̸̫̯̑̓ ̶̡̧̏ư̷̪̿s̴̹͚͂e̷͊͜ ̶͓̜̾͝i̴̲͗t̶̜̎ ̴̳͝t̸̺̽̕ô̵̺͝ ̷̢̒̕ŗ̸̱̌̚u̵͍̙͌n̸͚̟̔,̶͉̳͌ ̷̞̬͋ţ̷̦̕o̷͉̓ ̶̤͌g̶͚̗̅̕e̵͜ẗ̴ͅ ̷͓̲͠w̴̦͐ḣ̷̩͑ë̸͎́ȓ̵̛̭͕ė̶̳ ̴͈͋̚t̵̝̔̓h̵̫́e̷̲͖̊ ̶͈̽̈́D̸̥͑̚R̸̞̻̓̚Ȁ̴̪̣͂G̸̡͇̐O̵͚̯̕͘N̸̤̄ ̴͜c̸͇̈́a̴̝̹͒͊n̶̞͖̾̒’̶͉̿t̶͉̔͝ ̷̻g̴̬̅͑e̷̦̓ṫ̷͕̃ ̵̺͖͗y̵͙͈̋o̴̻̥̾u̴̘̓̄.̷̣̽”̸̢̦̒̃

Something round and hard is being pressed into his hands and the enderman is gone, blinking in and out of existence as they works their way back to the beast that’s tearing through the ranks of endermen. The new enderman is turning him away now, and Ryan realizes he’s reached the edge of the island and floating before him is a black void (too black to be the void that surrounds everything else) sprinkled with pricks of white surrounded by that not-white stone. They take a hold of his arm and something in him whispers, “Throw it” and he _releases_ the object (an Ender pearl, oh gods it was their _heart_ ) and it flies true, sinking into the patch of wrongness and the D̶̯̙͌Ṛ̶̈́Ä̴̢̕G̴̪̞͝O̶͕̅̚N̷͕̑͜ howls in fury in his head and the new diamond walls shatter and the shards rip through the hastily-made stitches and _who is he again_ before suddenly there is no battle going on around him. His mind is clear, the beast raging in its cage but too far to make an impact.

The enderman with a hold on him is still there, with one of their arms wrapped around his chest and the other gripping his arm. They stand on another not-white stone island, one that has a familiar circle of obsidian pillars rising up from all around them. There are a few endermen hanging around, all with those terrible eyes, but none of them jump to attack. Ryan takes a deep shuddering breath, the cries of dying endermen echoing in his ears along with the usual ringing and a few tears trickle down his face. He is suddenly being held too tight and struggle out of the arms holding him upright and he falls to his knees, scrambling around on the ground, looking for what had saved him (it has to be here, it has to be). He catches a glimpse of shining black-green and lunges forward, gripping the precious orb in both his hands, then pulling it closer so he’s hugging it to his torso. 

The other friendly enderman steps up behind him and nudges him with a foot, a clear, “get moving” sign as any. Ryan stumbles to his feet and turns to look at them, bracing himself for the pain of the connection. Static erupts in starbursts across his vision and the ringing intensifies, but he hears 

“̷̢̊H̷̦̕u̷̙̎r̶̭͘r̴̤̀y̴̲͊,̸͈̀ ̶̲q̵͈̆û̵̲i̵͉͗ċ̵̹k̶̗̒l̷̟͌y̸͔̑.̷͖͒ ̵̣͘T̵͍̿ḧ̷̨́ë̵̺́ ̵͇̂ò̵̭t̸͍̍h̷̝͋e̷̦̔r̴̺̾s̷̥͘ ̴̣̈c̵̩̐â̶̤n̴̖͆n̴͈̑o̷̞̿t̴̩́ ̸̦͠ḥ̴̋o̶̖̕l̵̫̆d̶̰͛ ̶̹̽ḩ̵e̵͖̋r̴̛̻ ̵̖̂f̴͂ͅo̸͇͛r̵̭̎ ̴̛̪l̸̟͂ȯ̷̳n̴̳̏g̶̜͆.̶̣͠ ̸̦̇I̵̩̊n̸͇̉t̴̩̀o̸͍̎ ̸͔̌t̵̫̑h̸̻̐e̷̝̐ ̵̡̏p̷̛̥o̸̻͠ṙ̸͖ṯ̷̃a̷̛̻l̵̯̒ ̵̻̊a̷͍͆n̵̺͆d̷͈͌ ̵̤́ḃ̵͚a̶͇̿c̴͇̓k̸̟͆ ̶̭̏h̴̞̽ö̶̮́m̵͈͂ȇ̶͇ ̴̗̆y̷̼̑o̸͎͐u̸̧̾ ̶̩͠m̸̯̏ṷ̸͝s̵̰̽t̶̮͠ ̶͖̑g̴̣͐o̸̱̊,̶̯͊ ̸̗̈́c̷͆ͅo̷̞̐n̴̳̄s̵͙̏t̵̼̓ṙ̶͜ų̴̀c̸̳̆t̷̢̛.̷͓̄”̷̟͑

Ryan nods, trying to look away and starting when he’s successful. A warm feeling begins to grow in his chest, a feeling that he’s prevented himself from feeling for so long that he almost doesn’t recognize it at first: hope. They walk forward quickly, avoiding eye-contact with the other endermen and he spots, for the first time, a strange formation of stone in the center. He reaches it and finds another spot of black-with-white-specks void in place of stone around the pillar. He looks towards the enderman, a question on the tip of his tongue before a sharp crack echoes through his mind and the roaring returns with rending claws and piercing fangs and he cried out in pain once more as the Eye is burning. The endermen all around them screech and turn to look at them, arms raised with the promise of violence. He’s falling, unable to stay upright and he’s being pushed, the friendly enderman shoving him towards the black with an audible plea in the screech it releases. Ryan stumbles forward, barely able to keep track of his limbs as the D̶̯̙͌Ṛ̶̈́Ä̴̢̕G̴̪̞͝O̶͕̅̚N̷͕̑͜ appears from the gloom. The cry of 

“̷̰͕͕͚̟̉ͅN̶̟̜̟͎͕͊͒̓̏͑̓͝͝O̷͓̜̲͇̣̘̲͕̰͚͊̂̒͂͂̔̅͘̕͜͝͝Ó̸̧͉̥̠̺̦̝̗̫̖̅̔͊̏͋̋̂͒͌̃̍͜͜ͅO̴̗̺̩͉͙̠̮͂̓̇̉̆̏̓̓̂̅̊̚͠!̸̨̻͖͕̫͕̋̐͐̋̊̎͋̒̚”̶̛͔̜̘͈͈̯͉͔̀͊̂̔͋̍̾́͌̕͜

Fills his head completely and then he’s falling through the void and knows no more.

~~~~

When Ryan comes to, he’s laying on something soft, which is, in itself, odd, since nothing in the End was ever soft. Then, he feels a soft sort of warmth, so different than the terrible scorching pain from the Eye, and a cool breeze that makes the sound of leaves rustling all around him. He opens both of his eyes and sits up, wincing as aches and pains make themselves known. He is laying on a bedroll in the middle of what appears to be a long-abandoned camp. His roll is under a canvas sheet that had been tied to trees to keep it aloft at some point, but a couple of the ropes had long since rotted through, leaving him exposed to the sun peeking through the trees. 

He looks down, seeing the same tattered and blood-stained clothes he had been wearing in the End and a quick examination determines that he is still tainted with whatever the Eye did to him. He reaches up, touching it, but there is only a dull ache, no spark or flash of pain to be had. He lets out a relieved breath before taking in a panicked one (where’d it go, I can’t have lost it) and whirls around, looking for the pearl. He finds it sitting next to him, innocently resting on some old leaves. After picking it up, he feels much better and relaxes, sitting back down and crossing his legs. 

His mind is clear, ravaged and full of holes and he definitely won’t be considered _good_ mentally for a long while, but that presence that had been lurking in the back is not there, not tearing at the battered-but-standing walls, not roaring in rage and trying to drag him into the blackness of non-being that he lived in for so long. 

He takes a deep breath and lets it out, the exhale turning into the start of a laugh and soon he’s sitting there, laughing hysterically into the wilderness wearing ratty clothing and clutching an Ender Pearl to his chest, but _he’s_ the one doing it. His name is Ryan Haywood and his mind is his own. He is free.

**Author's Note:**

> Cursed Text translations:
> 
> "What have they done?"
> 
> "Do not fear, the DRAGON will not have you again."
> 
> "You are nothing, construct. You cannot escape."
> 
> "Who are you, construct? Why are you here?"
> 
> "The DRAGON holds you tight, construct. It is rare that you surface so fully."
> 
> “Stay strong, construct. The DRAGON’s presence is overwhelming here, but we are with you. You are not of END and thus must leave, for the good of BALANCE. Keep fighting. We will get you home.”
> 
> “How dare you? Construct-of-my-making, you will obey. The world-with-life-and-color will be mine to rule!”
> 
> “Go, construct. Take this piece of me and use it to run, to get where the DRAGON can’t get you.”
> 
> “Hurry, quickly. The others cannot hold her for long. Into the portal and back home you must go, construct.”
> 
> "NOOOO!"


End file.
